


In Hope, Guidance

by intheheart



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Letters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-03-31 23:24:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 2,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3997132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intheheart/pseuds/intheheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of letters between Leliana and her love, Linnea Cousland, Warden-Commander, separated by distance and circumstances. A brief epistolary series.</p><p>Linnea is Andrastian, and is off searching for a cure for the Calling. All letters take place during the events of Dragon Age: Inquisition, and will ultimately conclude with the Trespasser end slides. Until we have more canon, that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hope In the Distance

**Author's Note:**

> The letter from a romanced Warden to Leliana is a major piece of the foundation I was inspired by: 
> 
> "I was not there for the death of Divine Justinia, but I know it will have hurt her terribly. While her wits and her skill are amazing, Leliana's greatest strength lies in her faith, and to have Justinia die strikes at her very core. I beg you, if she is faltering, help her find her way back into the light."
> 
> I decided to utilize the events of DAI and such to thread through the background and form a loose narrative, also keeping in mind the nature of letters-as-necessity and letters as things that could be intercepted, so there's always something else below the surface left unsaid or stated in the vaguest hints, and then thinking about this difficult 10 years+ of on and off separation - what would that look like?

Dearest Leliana,

My love, it still pains me to bear this absence, but you know I would not go if there were another solution. We exhausted our previous leads. This decision, as you know, is partly selfish and partly for the good of all the Wardens. If my life had not changed so drastically, so suddenly, if becoming a Warden had not brought us together, to live and to fight, I could scarcely imagine what life might otherwise be. You must carry onward, secrets locked in your heart, as you always do. I've received news of the Inquisition and your role in it. I know that your pain over Divine Justinia's death is fresh, heavy, and something you hold down to your very depths. Your bard's face will never betray this to others, but my love, I know you, unmasked, and it grieves me to be unable to lay by your side in this time, run my fingers through your lovely red hair, and breathe kisses along your neck and shoulders. To listen to your quiet song, in place of the tears you might have known under other circumstances.

The Maker has given and taken from us all. Questions would only be natural, Leliana, as they were when my family's loss left me dazed, though I found purpose – and you. You started anew, and Justinia knew you had greater within you. No matter what else has happened, take faith in that, please, and in my return. I trust in you and I pray for the Inquisition's efforts in stopping these threats. Please, above all, even with the horrors we have both witnessed, the lives we have taken, and those we have lost, there is hope in the world. Do not lose sight of it, Leliana, for although it is tempting sometimes to turn into the alluring promises of relief that a certain darkness may hold, hope is the source of your greatest strength. I await the light in your eyes and the humble ease of the smile that is just for me once our duties have been completed.

My heart will come home to yours, Maker willing.

Linnea


	2. The Face of Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another letter, this time from Leliana to Linnea Cousland with news of Fergus and the questions no one else would see underneath to discover.
> 
> Contains very small references to Leliana's pages in World of Thedas volume 2.

Linnea,

Your brother extended his condolences on the death of the Divine. I took the opportunity to write to him personally and give our thanks on behalf of the Inquisition, and to assure him I had had recent word in your hand that you were safe. It has been long years since the Blight, since we found each other in those most desperate times. 

I wonder sometimes if my decisions, those words echoing in my head to strike if the opportunity presents itself, no hesitation, if straying from that path might have cost us fewer of what precious years belong to us. I know your search is for the benefit of many, and we have both had to abide by our vows, by our service, and trust that the Maker knew what He was doing. At what cost, though? I am a most reliable tool, and I will give my service in full until this situation, this Breach is closed, the Divine's murderer found and defeated. I will see this through until the end. I will not falter. I dare ask myself what afterward. With Justinia gone and the path ahead shrouded, how can I...go back?

I confess that some part of me is tired, yearning, worried. I have a growing organization at my back and the most reliable network, and yet I am powerless to ensure your safety. And the safety of all of those at the Conclave. Of Divine Justinia. That was a failure, but of what I do not yet understand. I turn it in my head. What if we missed something? Cassandra believes in the survivor's professed innocence. I told her you could not assist us now. She searches for another.

I do not know what to think about it all just yet. Grief is bare and burdened, but there is duty, which has its own face. Could this all really be what the Maker had planned for us? If so, why is it this unclear?

You would tell me to stop worrying. You would take my hand in your warrior's hand, push a strand of hair out of my eyes, kiss my fingertips, and let me breathe. You would say, “Leliana, we will find our path together,” as you have told me countless times through these years. My heart aches for your touch. My lips, your kiss. And my ears, your voice. Return to me. Maker protect you.

 

L.


	3. Tending to Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Linnea discusses family, and worries about the burden on Leliana's shoulders.

L (full of mystery!),

Thank you for handling correspondence with Fergus. Did you know he is courting a daughter of one of his banns? He would hardly speak of it to me the last time we saw one another, but his smile! None will ever replace those lost, and my brother will carry his Oriana and Oren forever, but whatever may happen in Thedas, I should hope to see him happy again. I speak not of politics nor inheritance, but for my older brother, whose heart, even when broken, had room for pride in me and service to all. Light a candle for them tonight, Leliana.

Your bow has always been true, and when you pledge it, so has your heart, my love. An arrow, loosed, can strike its target down, but there can also be mercy in where to direct the shot, or if one directs it at all. It is never too late to stay one's hand if the doing so would be the right thing. My sword is an extension of me. Do not hesitate, but do not rush, either. You have a choice.

I cannot wait to hear your song again, warm in front of a fire, curled together at last. I smile now, writing this, at the thought of your careful hands, unlacing my top with such tender grace, the flicker of the flames in your eyes as your lips meet mine. Then, as they travel further down, a mix of fluttering freedom and you, surfacing, unpracticed, and finally, at home.

It has never been easy, these long dutiful years for us both, especially with the horror the future holds for me should I fail now. You accepted that even when I might have sought to shield you from loving an accursed woman like myself. I accepted your duty at the Divine's side these years. But for you, you have so much power within, and so much light that I know. Dream of the fire we will share once more, and tend the fire within you. I will write again as circumstances allow.

 

Linnea

 


	4. In Uncertainty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana responds to Linnea, telling of the difficulties of hope and the mood of all at Haven. Then some recollections as distance and duty have their effects on both.

My love,  
  
Your talk of fire comes to me on the coldest of days. Not merely the snow upon the ground, but the weighted energy in the air, in the people's somber whispers. Some now dare to hope a little. I cannot, yet, not truly, but I try. I watch. There is still much left to try for, but this is a loss we cannot doubt. A challenge. The Maker has shown me light and shadow, and it is always back into the latter which I inevitably circle. I am always reminded of how much, no matter how good I may be, how much there is beyond us. It is a loss _I_ cannot doubt, cannot see repeated. Such situations require control. We go forward, and from these shadows, you remain a light. No matter what.  
  
I've spent so much time talking of cold. Of loneliness and shadow. Seeing this written in your hand, and even the talk of your brother's potential happiness serve to warm me.  
  
There is so much we cannot say openly in this distance, and for that I am glad to know your heart. I already know what sorts of things you would place in my ear. I am not always as good at accepting them as you are at saying them. But this you also know.  
  
This time, Linnea, uncertainty blankets us both.

I think of your hands in mine. Of promises we made. The comfort you have always brought me. If we could only spend two or three days in each other's arms again, with the world paused. Watching you wake, pushing that one persistent unruly strand of hair out of your eye. I stopped trying and answered the warm call of your lips instead. One of my better decisions.  
  
Alas, duty is always our call.   
  
L.  



	5. Grace and Unease

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Linnea's next letter to Leliana arrives after a delay. She tells of past memories that sustain her, as well as current sources of dread.

Dearest,  
  
I think of you, of us, all through my days out here, and sometimes when I get the chance to write it all down, the words simply fail. I am at such a point, so forgive me if I just remember that look in your eyes when you reassure me. And the taste of your neck as you lean your head back and your body into my mouth. My fingers, free from these gauntlets, free from pretenses, sweeping your hair back, whispering in your ear. Your hands around me, fingernails pressed into my back. Those were the sweetest of mornings.  
  
Watching you dress afterward. Your skin is unworthy of clothing, however fine it may be.  
  
I know it has been a while since my last letter. The fleeing words and my clouded mind haven't been the kindest of friends. Especially difficult when you speak of the comfort I give you. The comfort you also give me. In that way, we are destined. Perhaps, in all of our difficulties, Maker blessed courtesy of His holy sense of humor.

I think of your reassuring eyes, the softness of your hand upon my face, because the dreams have been so powerful lately. You would think that after all this time, I would be prepared for any nightmare that could visit me. I don't want to believe that something is stirring, but there's a sense of dread that I'm not sure my mission accounts for. I wish I could say more, or interpret the fragments that cause me to be so restless. A sword can only pierce a known target.  
  
I miss those days when we stole away to the sea.  
  
My protests against your clothes may have been unsuccessful, but you well know how I delight in your grace. I need that grace. One more hour. One more day. I make plans to come home again. To the city, to the sea, wherever we build it.  
  
With hope that your heart is now more at ease than mine,  
  
Linnea  



	6. I Endure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana responds to Linnea, hinting at the troubles in Redcliffe and acquiring aid to close the Breach. Meanwhile, she asks for prayers before attaching a surprise.

Linnea,  
  
At ease. I wish I could say yes to that, my love. But you know my heart too well. I could not say the words now and mean them. No, much is still uncertain. We work to secure aid to close this Breach. Something peculiar is happening that I am working to understand and make our plans around, but I cannot say more this way. Only, I hope the Maker blesses our efforts, for we have little time to waste. The morale of the people is resilient, but not tireless. Nor is mine, love, but I will endure, survive, exhaust efforts. Because I know how to endure, it makes me valuable, but you taught me more, to save that part of myself. You will recognize my efforts. I can hear you laugh at me now, reminding me with that look in your bright, green eyes that you believed in me. That all these years later, you still do.   
  
In this moment, I think of your hand in my own. Knowing our days together would inevitably be shortened again by duty. Yet your spirit, your breath in a steady rhythm, head cradled by my shoulder, your fingertips absentmindedly stroking mine. No weight. No burdens then. Remarkably, for moments, a certain peace. You mentioned the sea. When this is over, we shall return. With the Maker's blessing, of course. Wish me that.  
  
A small surprise for you this time, as a reminder what awaits you.  
  
Always,  
  
L


	7. Rose Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Linnea responds to Leliana's surprise. She recalls another sweet memory in their enduring love that is too often interrupted by duty, and reminds Leliana of her strength.

Leliana - Silent Plains rose! Did you believe I'd forgotten that scent? How cruel to anoint my letter, that does not come accompanied by you in the flesh, with such temptation! I miss you dearly. It is a good memory. I've placed your letter in the sewn pocket of my gambeson. Wherever I am, the rose of your letter is tucked over my heart.  
  
Linnea, you are such a silly romantic, with a loving letter that lights up your senses and sends your heart home with its scent. Yes, my love, I am. There is so little of home left. I have my brother, faithful and loyal, but we all know nothing has ever, or will be the same.  
  
These years, despite the dangers, despite my fate, I do feel the lightness of which you write. Each moment we have has to count for more, doesn't it? When I put a shell comb in your hair, braided it back, rubbed the tension from your neck, I tried to remember every touch, every breath, every sigh of peace. You sat in my lap, pressed your body to mine, and made me blush like I was fourteen again, sneaking away to the garden to kiss the maid's daughter behind a trellis. A stray sunbeam through the window glinted off the iridescent comb. Feeling the rush of your heart and mine, the rose perfume on your warm skin as I kissed your collarbone, each soft, perfect breast, filling my presence, my whole self, with you then. Tickling your belly with my hair as your thighs opened up to me. It must all count for more, each minute, and I hope you know that it does.  
  
I do talk of the sea, because it brings both of us a peace, and its vastness, its strength, gives me a strange hope. Both of our mothers, may they rest eternally, would appreciate how we hold to it.  
  
Yours, always,  
  
Linnea  
  
P.S. You do endure. You will. I have prayed for you every night, and that will never change. The dreams have subsided for now, though I am not sure for how long. Through our trials, if anyone can find a solution, you will be central. I have always believed in you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After no updates over the holidays, here is the next installment. I aim to get in at least one pair weekly.


	8. Faithful, Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As both Linnea and Leliana continue their correspondence, duty and reminiscence remain. A new letter of tender recollection, current duty, and daring to hope.

  
Linnea,  
  
I regret time is short, but I did not want you to be without my words. Our work here continues, always continues, but this you know. We have made progress, and if we are successful in our next steps, word may travel. I can say no more but continue praying, Linnea.   
  
I am glad for the relief from your dreams, which is no small thing, my love.   
  
The night of the shell comb, laying against you, listening to your tale of the time you and Fergus had learned the old song of your mother, of the past made whispers, made song. The wistful pride in your voice as you recounted her surprise, your father losing his composure, of everyone finally pulled into laughter. Your voice trembled, your heart trembled. I think I fell more in love with you in that moment. We saluted your mother with our goblets, a toast before the fire.      
  
I let myself wish for the sea with you. Knowing that we both share that is a comfort between this unknown distance, duties we each cannot detail, but your heart, that I do know. And your faithful lips, hungry for my own. I long to taste the wine on your tongue again, and will pray, too, for your safe return and for all of Thedas tonight.  
  
L


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Linnea replies to Leliana's written reminiscence of the tale by the sea, holding to soothing memories of her own family and of their love as duties grow harder.

My love,  
  
My mother, the SeaWolf. Her face grew as red as an apple! She gave me my first blade soon after, so proudly. I always did have too much energy, ready to go, and she knew. She knew. I am glad you remembered that tale. It has been a very long day, and I sit under these stars and think of that night by the fire too. The sea lapping the shore nearby, the fire before us, the light coastal breeze, your hand on my knee, your head against my chest. No armor. No duty. Hardly any clothes. We might have been anyone.   
  
It's such a rare moment that you ever let go. I treasure those moments because they are mine. You are so much - strong, loving, caring, determined, capable, cunning. Yet, at your most tender, there is a subtle, very subtle pause, you exhale, your lovely shoulders drop a little, your head rests against me, and you are just _you_. It is like a gift wrapped in twenty layers. I have experienced this fewer times than I'd like. For your sake, mostly.  Yet, each time, it is the sweetest of treasures.   
  
I know what the realities are for us both. This is the life we have, but I want this life with you, as chaotic and unpredictable, as secretive, as _frightening_ , as it is. I love you, Leliana. May the Maker's light be upon us all.  
  
Linnea  
  
My love, time to reflect, to write, it grows short here as well, but you lighten my heart and I do all I can to return to your arms.


End file.
